Dark Company
by MeanderingFlames
Summary: Picks up at the end of the 6th book. Harry, Hermione, and Ron return to Hogwarts for their 7th year, and some new romances develop. Draco/Hermione Harry/Ginny
1. Chapter 1

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," Harry had said.

"Harry, there's nowhere safer than Hogwarts. You know that," Hermione Granger pleaded. "Please Harry; I know you need to find the other horcruxes. I _know._ But Dumbledore didn't die so you would throw your future away."

"I'm with you if you want to leave, mate, but I reckon Hermione's right."

"Not only is it safer there, but Hogwarts needs us to keep the students safe. With Voldemort on the rise who knows who the next headmaster will be!" Hermione cried.

"He left it up to me, you know that," Harry said angrily. "It's ME who has to kill Voldemort. It's ME who's in the prophecy. Now that Dumbledore's dead, it's up to ME to find and destroy the other horcruxes. How do you not see that?"

"I _know_ Harry," Hermione said, "but it won't help at all to jump into this with no idea of where we're going. I didn't say you had to focus on your studies next year while at school, I just think you need to be _at _Hogwarts! Don't you understand?"

"We'll help you find them, Harry." Ron said solemnly. "You're not in this alone." Harry sat and thought, still angry. Would it be worthwhile to return? Where would he start looking? Could he do it without his friends there?

"Alright." He sighed, touching his scar. "I'll return. But there's no guarantee I'll be staying."


	2. Chapter 2

A cloaked figure approached the door of the big house, moonlight reflecting off his pale skin.

"Augh! Peacocks!" He muttered, kicking aside the stupid bird. Lucius Malfoy was always too cocky for his own good; peacocks. How ridiculous.

He slid the door open into a big room with a high ceiling. He could hear laughing in the other room.

"Silence!" A deep and foreboding voice called. A thick snake slithered up to the man and wrapped around his legs. "Who do we have here, Nagini?" A short chuckle. "Ahh, Severus. So good of you to join us." Snape crossed the room and entered a slightly smaller one, where the Malfoys were sitting on one side of the table while the Dark Lord leaned back in his chair, twirling his wand. The snake was still wound around his legs, letting out hisses like purrs from a cat. "We've been expecting you." The Dark Lord gave a malicious grin at Draco, who quickly averted his gaze and looked at the ground.

"So good to see you again, my Lord." Snape said, bowing his head to his master. "And you, Bellatrix. You look…well." The woman with the dark, heavy lidded eyes gave a slight nod of acknowledgement then focused her gaze back on the Dark Lord.

"I heard about your… stunt at Hogwarts," Voldemort said, gazing at the Malfoys, then to Snape. "And there is no doubt that Dumbledore is dead?"

"No doubt, my Lord. I saw him get buried."

"Good, very good. And the boy?"

"The boy will return to Hogwarts next year as planned."

"Marvelous." He called his snake over with a small hiss. "I called you here to discuss with you… A plan of sorts."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"One last chance for the Malfoys before I take their lives, I should think."

Snape looked at the family of blondes to his left. Narcissa Malfoy held on to Draco as if he would float away without her, and Lucius had his hands crossed across his lap with his gaze averted to the ground, ashamed of his son. "Yes, my Lord."

"I should think that in order to make a real wizard out of the young Draco he shall have to spill blood… Precious blood."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "And whose blood would that be, my Lord?"

"The blood of Potter's friends…" The Dark Lord said with a grin, revealing sharp pointy teeth. "…And bring me Potter."

Snape looked with alarm at the pale boy in front of him. If he couldn't kill Dumbledore, what made the Dark Lord so sure he was able to kill the others?

"And that, Severus, is where you come in. I claim you partially responsible for the recent chaos at Hogwarts; if you had done your job correctly, we would not have lost so many. Perhaps if you do your job right this time, we will have a rather different outcome."

"Of course, my Lord." Snape said with a slight bow. "I am deeply sorry and intend to right it in any way possible."

The Dark Lord laughed. The boy opened his mouth as if to say something, or perhaps to vomit, but neither word nor bile came out. He closed it.

"You are to do as Severus says, boy," Voldemort growled, "or you can bid your mummy, goodbye!" With a flick of his wrist he sent Narcissa doubled over in pain to the floor, writhing in pain under the Cruciatus Curse. Draco jumped up as if to argue, stunned, staring at his mother on the floor. "Not so quiet when I hurt your mummy, are you?" He flicked his wrist and Narcissa stopped moving. "So you better do your job right this time, or else…" He let out a bloodcurdling laugh, and Bellatrix joined in with a scathing look at her sister, who was picking herself off the ground. Snape smirked, appreciative of his new job. At least he'd have something to focus on this year with Dumbledore gone. "Now go! You two, Severus and boy, go do something productive! Leave me with the grown ups…"


	3. Chapter 3

September 4th, the day before departing for King's Cross. Three weeks had passed since Bill and Fleur's wedding, and still nothing new about horcruxes. His late nights of searching through history books, discussing with Hermione and Ron, and looking over the locket reading RB had gotten him nowhere. Frustrated, he slammed the lid of his trunk closed and kicked over a pile of rubbish.

"Harry?" A voice asked from the door. He turned around, scathing, and then felt his anger melt away. He could never be mad when he saw Ginny; his heart picked up its beat and he smiled.

"'Lo, Ginny. Do you need something?" He crossed the room and enveloped her in a hug, smelling her fiery red hair—it smelled like lavender.

"Mum wants to know if you forgot to pack anything. She's going to Diagon Alley today with me and Hermione…" Harry swung Ginny around and closed the door to he and Ron's room. It had been so long since he'd had Ginny alone; all the weeks leading up to the wedding had been spent individually setting things up, and the weeks after were spent taking things down and packing—he'd had barely a moment alone with her.

She smiled and he kissed her lips, feeling better than he had all day. His spirits uplifted as she kissed him back, more ferociously than he had intended. He pushed her against the wall, his breathing coming fast, his heart hammering in his chest—Pop!

"Oh, didn't realize we'd be interrupting something!" Fred said, throwing his hands up.

"By all means, continue. Just came down to see how things were coming--" Fred laughed at George's subtle joke. Two pops announced the exit of the twins.

"Those gits," Ginny grumbled, pushing Harry away from her and crossing the room. "Always arriving unannounced, interrupting things and ruining them!" Harry grabbed hold of Ginny's arm.

"Ginny—Ginny! Ginny!" He cried, trying to get her to stop ranting. "Ginny, I think they've gone now. We're alone." She stared blankly into Harry's green eyes for a second.

"Oh!" She said, blushing. "Where were we…" Harry reached down and cupped her face, kissing her tenderly, her lips soft against his own. Ginny flung her arms around his neck and pushed into him, sending him stumbling backwards. He took a few steps back and tripped over his trunk, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

"Ow…" He said, rubbing his head. Ginny laughed and pounced on him.

"Sorry about that," she said between kisses. "It was only kind of on purpose…"

"Oh really?" Harry replied, his eyes unfocused since his glasses had been knocked to the ground. "And why would it be on purpose?"

Ginny giggled. Suddenly, the door flung open and Ron appeared in the doorway.

"Harry? Harry where are y--- Oh! Oh Merlin, oh I'm sorry—what the… You really shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what, Ronald?" Ginny asked impatiently, sweeping a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Shouldn't—Um, anyways," he said, clearing his throat. "Mum said she's leaving in ten minutes, err…" His ears burned red as he struggled for his words. "So I guess you should… finish up here and um, you know…" He took one last look at his sister and his best friend, cleared his throat, then closed the door.

"I should go," Ginny said, kissing Harry one last time. "So you didn't forget anything?"

"No, I have everything here." He said, then smiled. "You should go."

Ginny clumsily dragged herself up. "I don't want to go…" She said, tugging at Harry's arm.

"I'll be here when you get back," he said, trying to find his glasses. He picked them up and put them back on, then stood up. "Maybe we'll have a little time then."

"We better," Ginny said, then with one last look at Harry, she spun on her heel and left the room.

"Girls, where are you? Your father's got the fire ready!"

"Coming, mum!" Ginny called, then raced down the stairs, ignoring the look Ron gave her.

"Good, good. Now girls, one at a time! All right, Hermione first…"

Ginny watched as Hermione tossed a handful of powder into the flames, yelled "Diagon Alley!" then was engulfed in the flames.

"Now, Ginny. We don't want to get there too late!" Ginny dipped her hand into the sack of powder and tossed a handful on the flames.

"Diagon Alley!" She cried, then stepped into the fire place. She felt warmth lick at her arms, watched as the flames surrounded her body. She spun in circles and watched into people's homes as she spun through their fireplaces.

She stopped in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, crawling out of the ashes. Tom the bartender gave her a hearty wave which she returned, then joined up with Hermione outside of the shop.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well good then, girls!" Mrs. Weasley said, dusting herself off. "Now the first place I have to go is Flourish and Blotts—Ron has forgotten to buy the Standard Book of Spells, Year Seven, the toad!" She smiled brightly at the two girls, then adjusted her hat. "Have you girls got things to get too?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. I really need to go to the pet store to buy some hairball formula for Crookshanks."

"Alright, deary, you go on ahead. I think it would suffice to say we should meet here in a half an hour, 4:30. Would this give you girls enough time?"

"Yes, mum, thank you!" Ginny said, dragging Hermione away from her mother. Nowadays everyone was so paranoid about meeting a dark wizard or witch—After 5 everyday, Diagon Alley was deserted, people too afraid to stay out after dark for fear of being tortured or killed. Shop windows had huge posters plastered up with photos of the Most Wanted dark witches and wizards—Thicknesse, Lestrange, Malfoy, Greyback… The hollow look on the faces of the witches and wizards sent a jolt of shock through Ginny, who had seen them all the year before…

"Granger," a voice said from behind them. A pale boy in dark robes approached them, seemingly alone, with a smirk on his pale face.

"I didn't expect to see you out without your mum," Ginny growled, and his grin disappeared.

"And I wouldn't have expected you to show your face out here, Weasley, with all the big nasties out here," Malfoy shot back.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked. She rolled her eyes at him and fingered her wand, just in case. They could both legally use magic outside of school now, and she wasn't risking being cornered by Malfoy.

"I was just greeting you, until your little hippogriff bit off my finger." Draco faked looking hurt that she would suspect him of anything. "And I wanted to get a new look at the Mudblood who will be Head Girl with me next year, have you seen her around?"

"Malfoy, _you're_ head boy?" Hermione gasped.

"You're surprised? I was always second behind you, Granger," he said, sneaking up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "And now we're even." He whispered in her ear, then laughed and walked off. A fiery sensation ripped through Hermione where he had touched her, and she felt like she would explode with rage.

"How _dare_ he touch me!" She growled, so angry she was shaking.

"Don't let him get to you, Hermione. He's Malfoy—a big arse."

Hermione shook her head and sighed. She had put up with Malfoy for six years—How come right now he really started to bother her? Was it the fact that Dumbledore's death, so recent an event, was partly his blame? She knew he was an aspiring Death Eater and had always hated him with a passion, but how come now, _right now,_ she couldn't stand the thought of him?

"Come on, we've wasted enough time. I've got to get a jar of bat wings and newt eggs before we leave!" Ginny tugged at the edge of Hermione's robes, pulling her towards the beige shop on the left.

A small chime of bells announced their entrance into Slug and Jiggers, a dimly lit shop with a strong smell of chemicals. An old wizard cleared his throat and asked, "Can I help you find anything?"

"Yes, if you please, I need bat wings and newt eggs…" The shopkeeper nodded and led Ginny to an aisle in the back, leaving Hermione alone. She peered in a jar of pickled frog toes, wrinkling her nose at the red swollen berry-type bulbs inside. She remembered having to use them for a Vanishing Potion a few years before and how they smelled like horseradish.

"Hermione, I'm ready!" Ginny said, on her arm a small bag in which, Hermione assumed, was bat wings and newt eggs.

They left the shop and crossed over to Magical Menagerie, where Hermione quickly found the red bottle of "Essence of Hairball: A potion so strong it will dissolve hairballs before they form!" for seven Galleons, then checked the time. It was nearly 4:30, so Ginny and Hermione crossed back to in front of the Leaky Cauldron where they found Mrs. Weasley loitering.  
"Are we all set?" She asked the girls, a new yellow book in her hand.

"Yes, mum." Ginny said, and opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron.

*******************************************

If they had hoped for time alone, Harry and Ginny had soon forgotten about it. The rest of the night was spent with last minute packing and a rushed dinner, (in which Fred nearly took off Mr. Weasley's head with a particularly bad aimed hex to a doxy) and then they all collapsed into bed, exhausted.

Harry felt as if his head had just hit the pillow when Ron woke him up.

"Mum's in a right state, it seems Fred and George left out some of their more interesting experiments that ended up exploding in the middle of the night. I can't believe you slept through that, mate. It was like Armageddon down there."

Harry smiled, then got up and dressed quickly. Breakfast was a small plate of eggs and bread, and then Mrs. Weasley fussed with each of them.

"Oh Ginny, honestly, you can't leave the house looking like that!" She rushed over to her daughter and tried to smooth down her hair, which was a mane of curls this morning.

"Mum, stop!" Ginny said, trying to fight off her mother.

"Oh and Harry, there really is nothing we can do with that hair?" She then rushed from person to person, fussing with their clothes and hair. "There, I suppose that is the best I can do. Arthur!" Mr. Weasley, a tall man with the same red hair as the rest of his family, entered the room. He rubbed an eye under his horn-rimmed glasses and smiled warmly.

"Ready to go?" He asked, looking around. The room nodded. "Ginny, hold your mother's hand—I'll take your bag, dear… Now that everyone here knows how to Apparate, I want one at a time… One at a time, each into the men's bathroom of King's Cross. Alright, Harry, I think you should go first."

Harry nodded and held onto his trunk and his owl Hedwig's cage. He then probed into the darkness, picturing the bathroom in his mind… He felt the familiar tug at his navel as he was spun into the darkness, squeezed through a small tube…

And then he was in the dark bathroom of King's Cross, Hedwig hooting uncomfortably at him. A second later Ron apparated beside him, their baggage taking up most of the room.

"Let's get out of here. Dad said he'd meet us on the platform." Harry nodded and they exited the bathroom to the train station. He spotted the signs 9 and 10 and the long stretch of nothing in between. He looked around innocently, and when nobody was looking, ran headfirst into what appeared to the naked eye to be nothing.

He materialized on platform 9 ¾ with Ron beside him, the scarlet Hogwart's Express letting out steam in the morning air.

Three minutes later Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley arrived. "If you need anything—_anything—_don't hesitate to ask, dear." Mrs. Weasley said to no one in particular, then bade them all off.

For once, there were open compartments. Harry, Ron, and Ginny stored their things and sat down.

"Unfortunately I have to sit in the _Head Boy and Girl _compartment." Hermione said dejectedly. "I'll see you later."


	5. Chapter 5

She peered hopefully into the compartment; maybe he wasn't here yet. Maybe Voldemort had finally killed him for not fulfilling his task. But all of that was just hope; she found herself nearly face to face with Draco Malfoy.

He smirked and patted the seat across from him. "Good morning, _Granger_." He said.

"Malfoy." She said, trying not to look him in the eye. She took her seat and crossed her arms, one hand surreptitiously on her wand.

"Why so cross?" He asked, closing the compartment door. He then leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. "Okay, so you're not much for talking. I get it." He then took out some small coins and began tossing them at the floor, where they popped and combusted, then went out.

"Stop." Hermione said sternly, still looking idly out the window. The train hadn't even started moving yet—how was she supposed to survive the whole ride with him?

"What?" Draco asked, still tossing the coins at the ground.

"I said _stop,_" she growled, grabbing his hand. She then realized her error and dropped his hand; her cheeks flaring red as she turned her face away.

"I get the feeling you don't like me much, Granger." He said. "But I hope soon you'll see the error of your ways, Mudblood. You and I are not so different, besides the fact that both my parents are qualified wizards--"

"You shut your mouth, Malfoy, before I hex you to hell!" She yelled, pulling out her wand.

"Well we have sixteen hours together, I hope within that time you'll have warmed up to me." He said, then continued to throw things at the floor. Hermione closed her eyes and wished to be anywhere but there.

The train started to roll forward slowly, and then gained speed. Their compartment was silent, except for the occasional pops! of the coins Malfoy tossed at the ground.

"I don't see why you don't like me," he continued. "I happen to rather like you."

"Oh please." Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You've tried to kill me on several occasions. Don't even play that game with me."

"I was never trying to kill _you_ Granger, bloody hell. It's Potter I'm after."

"And Harry happens to be one of my close friends!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Trying to steal him from the little Weasley girl, are you?" He smirked. "Hey, and here I was thinking you could do so much better…"

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"You and Potter, Granger. Don't be dense."

"Harry and I are just friends!"

"Am I your friend?" He asked, his grey eyes boring into hers.

"You dim witted son of a banshee. What do you want from me? No, Malfoy, we are _not _friends." She said those words through gritted teeth, remembering all the times he had called her Mudblood, all the times he had mocked her…

"You know I'm sorry for everything," he said with a small frown, ceasing his throwing things at the floor.

Hermione felt another surge of rage race through her body. Here he was, mocking her _again._ She reached out and slapped him. She slapped him so hard her hand stung, but it was satisfying watching an angry red hand show up on Malfoy's pale face.

He opened his eyes wide with shock and snapped his head back to Hermione. She took out her wand in defense, expecting a huge blowout and a duel.

But Malfoy confused her. Instead of getting angry, he got quiet. Really quiet. He stayed quiet for ten minutes, in which Hermione was thoroughly satisfied.

"He punished me, you know." Draco said softly. So softly Hermione wasn't sure he had even said it.

"Pardon?" Hermione said.

"The Dark Lord." Draco said, looking at the floor. "Every night of the summer. For things I did, things I didn't do. He used curses, dementors, physical pain… I can't do it anymore." And even more surprising was the tear that escaped his eye, the one he wiped away so fast and pretended never existed. "I never thought I would be happy again… I—I want to help you. I want to help you defeat him—Defeat Voldemort." He looked so pathetic, so hurt right there that Hermione felt her heart swell with sympathy. She reached out a hand tentatively, then reeled it back in. This is Draco Malfoy, the one who tried to kill her and Harry, the one who succeeded in the death of Dumbledore last year… "Please," Draco whispered, more tears spilling over his eyes. "I am so sorry."

"I can't just—you're not…" Hermione stuttered, not sure how to react. She knew Draco was a good actor, but would he really give up his dignity to cry in front of her just to win her over? The Draco she remembered was proud, scathing, and would never cry. "Draco…"

"Please," he whispered again, his eyes turning red and his body shaking. "Hermione—please forgive me." She realized that this was the first time she'd ever heard him use her first name.

"Draco, I can't just forgive you… you… I…" She combed her fingers through her hair, suddenly wishing she had Crookshanks to keep her busy, but she had left her ginger cat with Ginny. She felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for Draco, and watching him sit there crying made her eyes fill up with tears. "Oh, of course Draco, I forgive you." She whimpered, the words foreign on her tongue. He continued to shake, his head in his hands. She didn't think he heard her.

"Draco—I forgive you." She said, moving closer to him. He lifted his head and looked into her chocolaty brown eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks and he straightened up.

"Please don't cry," he said, wiping his eyes.

Hermione sniffled and coughed. Now she felt sad, stupid, and confused. She had just forgiven Draco Malfoy for all the problems he'd caused, all the lives he'd tried to destroy—but she had also seen a side of Draco that she assumed not many people had ever seen. Certainly not Crabbe and Goyle, his loyal sidekicks who were about as stupid as oatmeal. He would have to stay strong in order to remain their leader, never falter, never stop. She had done something unforgivable, something she could not come back from; she had just gained respect for Draco Malfoy.

***************************************************

"I'm going to go check on her," Ron said for the thousandth time.

"Ron, you've said that for the past ten minutes. Are you going or not?" Harry asked, irritated. It was just him, Ron, and Ginny in the compartment, because Luna and Neville hadn't sat with them for some reason. If Ron left, he would have a few precious moments alone with Ginny… The ones he had longed for the whole summer…

"I really am," Ron said, nodding his head. He stood up, hit his head on the bar above his seat, and sat back down grimacing in pain. "Bloody hell," he muttered, rubbing his head. "Okay, for real now. I'm going." He stood up slowly, careful not to hit his head, and left the compartment.

Ginny turned quickly to Harry with a smile. She jumped up and used the lock, usually used when students were changing, to lock the compartment door.

"What if Ron comes back?" Harry asked, eyeing her.

"He can wait," she said, sitting on his lap. "This is more important." He pushed back her hair and kissed her on the mouth fiercely; she moved closer, her knees awkwardly pushed against the cushions of the seat. Harry leaned forward and she wrapped her legs around his back all in one fluid motion, as if it were choreographed. His hands were entangled in her hair, a mess of red curls that he loved. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him back in the seat, running her tongue around the inside of his cheek.

"Ginny…" He rumbled from deep in his chest, and kissed her cheek, her neck, her collarbone…

Ginny took a deep breath and grabbed the bottom of her shirt, tugging it over her head. Sure she had done this once with Dean Thomas, but Harry Potter… This would be completely different, she was sure of it.

Harry looked at Ginny with an anxious expression, as if he were worried if he touched her she would slap him.

Ginny laughed and grabbed his hands, placing them in the right spot. "I knew you were inexperienced but… really?" She teased, and kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

*************************************************************

He reached up and wiped her tears away. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

She slapped his hand away. She could forgive him, but there was no way he was touching her face. Not now, not ever.

"I'm only forgiving you because you want to help us, Malfoy." She said, emphasizing his last name as a sign of distance. "That doesn't make us friends." She sat back down and crossed her arms, staring at the mountains out the window, not daring to look at Malfoy's expression. He wore pride, happiness, and cockiness so well on that face; she didn't want to admit that sadness made him look like a fallen angel.

"I hope your opinion changes, Granger." He said softly, then cleared his throat. "I think someone's here for you."

Ron slid open the door violently. "Hermione?" He asked, as if he weren't sure she was in there.

"Weasley." Draco said, replacing his sadness with a malicious smirk.

"Ron!" Hermione said, jumping up and rocketing into his arms.

"Malfoy." Ron said and grimaced, as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth. Which, in fact, it did. Hermione stepped back and smiled brightly.

"How are you, Ron? Have I missed anything?"

"Well, your cat violently murdered a chocolate frog who tried to escape the compartment," he said, "but that's pretty much it. Neville and Luna never showed up."

"Loony Lovegood?" Malfoy asked, with a hint of distaste in his voice. "You actually sit with that nutcase?"

"Malfoy, shut up." Hermione said sternly. "Why didn't they show up?"

"I have no idea," Ron said.

"Maybe you should look for them?" Hermione asked. "Maybe we should look for them? Together?"

"You're not getting out of here that easy," Draco supplied. "You're not allowed to leave until all the Prefects have introduced themselves. And so far, we have… None." He smiled in what was supposed to be apologetic but came off as snarky.

"So you can't leave?" Ron asked, looking back and forth from Hermione and Draco.

"Nope. Not yet, anyways."

"Oh…" Ron said. He really didn't want to spend anymore time with Malfoy than he had to. "Well, I guess I'll go look for Neville…" He then wandered out, without another look at Hermione. He knew if he saw her face he would end up staying in the Head Boy/Girl compartment the whole ride, because he couldn't leave her there all alone with Malfoy for another 15 hours.

"That's why we can't be friends." Hermione said, and stormed out of the compartment.

"You can't leave!" Draco called after her, but she didn't listen. "Girls…" he muttered. "Always so bloody melodramatic."

He waited the fifteen minutes for her to return in silence. How was he going to pull this plan off? She was so damn _stubborn._ He had done everything to try to gain her trust… Hell, he had even cried. _Well, at least there's 15 hours left,_ he mused, as the door slid open again.

He stood up and approached her. "Listen, Hermione--"

"What, do you _want?"_ She asked, trying to move past him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called her a nutcase…"

"That's right, you shouldn't have."

"I want to make it up to you," he said, trying to get her to look him in his eyes.

"Make it up to me?" She laughed. "For all these years?"

"I think you'd be surprised what I can do," he said, wiping his knuckles on his shirt.

"I don't think so." She then tried to slide past him again.

"Just one second, and you'll forgive me." He smiled. "What if I told you… I know where one of the horcruxes are?"

Hermione was stunned. She stared blankly at his face, which was radiating success right now. He knew this would get her. "Wh-What did you say?" She asked, her jaw slightly open.

"I know where to find a horcrux." He said. "I know how to destroy a piece of him."

"But—But _how?_" She sputtered. "Nobody knows about them, not even--"

"Hermione, did you really think he could keep a secret like that from my father?" Draco asked impatiently.

"He's Lord Voldemort—I thought--"

"He's actually quite gossipy once you get to know him," Draco lied. "Can't keep a secret for more than two seconds." He hoped that once he had fulfilled his task the Dark Lord would forgive him for lying.

"Where?" Hermione asked finally.

"I can't tell you right now." Draco said. "But if you can trust me, I can tell you eventually. I promise."

Hermione paused. "Why not tell me now?"

"Because we're not completely _alone._"

"I don't believe you." She said.

"We're on the same team now, Hermione!" He said, losing his temper. She really was making this difficult. "Why would I lie about this?"

"Because you're Malfoy, that's why. Please, get out of my way!" She growled, trying to push him to the side.

"It's in the Forbidden Forest," he spat out.

"What?"

"The horcrux. It's in the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione studied his face, trying to tell if he was lying. His alabaster face told nothing but truth; his grey eyes were all honest.

"Alright, Malfoy. I trust you." She said, shaking her head. "But I don't like it."


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next six hours they bonded over planning to get the horcrux.

"Are you sure Voldemort won't be worrying about this horcrux? Can he feel them when they're destroyed?"

"I don't think so. I know he's not worried about them." Draco stretched and yawned. He was bored of this conversation. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione's cheeks flamed red. "Have I—what?"

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"I—in the 4th year—I don't understand how this is relevant?"

"It isn't. I just think that we have the whole year to find the horcrux, and I felt like talking about something else. That's all." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Well I personally think it's none of your business."

"Oh, it isn't?" Draco asked, a smile on his face. "We're going to be living in side-by-side rooms next year, spending most of our free time together, and this topic is off limits?"

"I--" She had forgotten that their rooms were side by side, in case the Prefects needed anything. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Me?" He shrugged. "Not a serious one. Some girls were ok," he thought for a moment. "But none of them were good enough for me, you know?"

Hermione shook her head. "Do you ever think maybe you're a little too cocky?"

He snorted. "There's nothing wrong with being cocky. Did you ever think maybe sometimes you're a know-it-all?"

"You don't have to mock me," she muttered.

"I wasn't mocking you at all. I was just making a point. We all have faults; I'm cocky, you're a know-it-all. It doesn't make us bad people."

"Those," she said, "are two very different things. I raise my hand when I know the answer—you run your mouth off without thinking."

He shrugged. "I can't help who I am, Hermione."

She agreed with that; maybe she had judged him too soon. But maybe not. "You think pure blood is better—why? Why am I first in the class if I'm not pure blood?"

"Luck?" He asked. "I don't know. I say what my dad says—Or, I said what he said. He's been saying the same things my whole life, and now look where he is—Next on Voldemort's hit list."

"Do you really think I look like a beaver?" She asked on a whim. He looked confused.

"What? Why would you look like a beaver…?"

"It's what you said in the 4th year. That my teeth made me look like a beaver…"

"And you remember? Merlin, Hermione. I don't even remember saying that. Of course not. Of course you don't look like a beaver." He then chuckled. "You remembered because you're madly in love with me."

"What?! No!" She cried. Her cheeks flushed red a little bit. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it meant so much to you. It's okay, I'm used to it." He smiled brightly and she punched him lightly in the arm.

"Cocky." She muttered.

"Know-it-all." He muttered back. They sat in silence for a minute. There was a knock.

"Hi, I'm Caitlin, the Prefect from Hufflepuff," a slightly chubby girl said. "And this is Perry, the other Hufflepuff Prefect."

"Oh, hi," Hermione said. "My name is Hermione, and this is--"

"Draco Malfoy. Now please get out of here, we're in the middle of a very important conversation."

Caitlin left, a surprised look on her face. "That's no way to treat them!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Close the door, please!" Draco yelled after the girl. When she didn't return to close it he sighed and closed it himself. "I never realized how long this train ride is," He said, staring out the window.

"Yeah," she said. "It is pretty long." She stood up and looked out the window too.

"You know that was the last group of Prefects," he said. "You can leave now if you want."

"Oh…" She said. "I thought we were having a pretty good conversation…"

He smiled. "You want to stay with me."

"I wouldn't say that--"

"You want to stay with me…" He said, moving closer to her.

"Okay, maybe I do--"

"…Because you like me…"

"I don't!" He smiled and she was incredibly confused. Here he was, her ex-enemy, so close to her. She could see the minor details of his face; the light blue freckles in his grey eyes, how smooth his skin was, how white and straight his teeth were…

"You do." He said, and she felt herself nod without meaning to. She knew other girls found him incredibly sexy and was starting to realize why. She couldn't believe how she hadn't noticed how his shirt clung to his body, outlining his good features, his abs, his biceps… How had she not seen how charming his smile was? He moved closer still and she wasn't sure what to do. Move back? What was he doing?

"I…" He looked straight in her eyes, then at her lips. The signal that he was going to kiss her. Her cheeks burned bright. She was sure that this was some kind of cruel joke. This is Malfoy! There's no way he would do this…

But the next thing she knew he was cupping her face, leaning in slowly. She had to make a decision, and fast—Do nothing and kiss him back, or slap him?

And then it was too late. His lips reached hers, his so smooth and experienced and hers clumsy and plush. She felt him smile as he sucked on her lower lip, and then his tongue was in her mouth. She had expected it to be disgusting, but he caressed the inside of her mouth so tenderly she shuddered. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing into his sculpted chest. He reached around her and held her close, their tongues intertwined, their breathing in sync.

"You were always too good for me, Hermione Granger." He breathed, leaning back in and kissing her tenderly. "Always."

***************************************************

As they entered the Great Hall, the absence of Dumbledore hit Harry with the impact of a thousand Quaffles. Instead of Dumbledore, Snape sat in the headmaster's chair. He cringed. Dumbledore's murderer, his least favorite teacher, the Death Eater Snape, was the headmaster. The other teachers sat as far away as possible, their faces blank and emotionless. They looked not at Snape, and paid no attention to his attempts to get the attention of the students. He growled something at Hagrid, who pretended not to hear him. After being threatened by the Cruciatus curse, he rumbled to the Great Hall, "Silence." Snape gave a speech about how this year was all about progress, a new level in Hogwart's history. Harry felt sick.

Hermione sat at the big table next to Malfoy, still in awe. She had hardly noticed that Snape was the Headmaster or that he was giving a speech. She sat stunned throughout the sorting ceremony, the hat's song, and the feast. She could hardly think at all. _Did I just kiss… Malfoy? Yes. Yes I did. But why? I don't know. Did I like it? Yes. Should I? I don't know._

After the sorting ceremony she had to give out passwords to the Prefects and meet with Professor McGonagall without Draco.

"Granger! Are you paying attention?" Professor McGonagall snapped and brought Hermione out of her trance.

"Yes, ma'am." She replied automatically.

"Good. Now you have noticed a change in administration. It is up to you, Miss Granger, to keep the battle for the Order going. There is no doubt in my mind that Severus will try to instill fear in the minds of the children. You need to keep their hearts strong, give them hope for a better tomorrow. I know that Mr. Malfoy will be working twice as hard as you to help Severus, but I am counting on you to keep hope alive in the cause. Keep hope alive in Dumbledore. Am I perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Professor. I just… Did I lead Harry into a trap?" Her heart dropped. She had forgotten that the next headmaster would possibly be a Death Eater when she convinced him to come back this year.

"I am afraid I do not follow you, Miss Granger."

"I told him to come back to Hogwarts this year… Do you think he's in danger?"

"Miss Granger, I believe we are all in danger. I am afraid that this place is as safe as any, as nowhere is safe anymore. Goodnight, Miss Granger. I am counting on you."

"Goodnight, Professor." She said, and was dismissed from the room. She wandered up the stairs to the painting of the Fat Lady, who demanded from her the password.

"Bowtruckle bogies," she said, and the portrait swung open. She entered the Gryffindor Common room to find Harry and Ginny intertwined in an armchair by the fire, and Ron involved in a game of Exploding Snap with Seamus and Dean.

"No!" Ron shouted, and tossed down three Galleons. "Oh, hey, Hermione. What's up?"

"I think we made a mistake coming back here," she said, looking back at Harry and Ginny. She was afraid for him.

"I know," Ron said, lowering his voice. "Do you think Snape will call You-Know-Who tonight?"

"I don't think so." Hermione said. "Not tonight. I think he's trying to use the academic year to recruit Death Eaters. If he shows up now, all the parents will take their kids home."

"Did you hear that from Malfoy?" Ron asked with a scowl on his face.

Hearing Malfoy's name her cheeks flushed. "No, I heard it from McGonagall, actually."

"Speaking of Malfoy, why are you here right now? You're supposed to be in the Head Girl room, sorting through the load of paperwork McGonagall handed you!"

She had forgotten she no longer lived in the Gryffindor dormitory. She was disappointed; she loved this place. The comfortable scarlet and gold colors were so familiar to her she had taken them for granted.

"Oh. I guess I'll see you later," she said, and turned around. "Oh, Ron," she remembered something. "I have something important to tell you and Harry." She looked over at Harry, who looked like he wouldn't be talking anytime soon. "Tomorrow." Then she left the common room and ran up the stairs to the fifth floor, where her new room was.

She had her own personal portrait, one that let her in and only her. She didn't have a password; she just had to smile for the portrait of the happy old drunk man in front of her door. The wall opened and she was shocked by the amount of pink in the room. It blinded her, the baby pinks and bubblegums covering the sofas and king sized bed. She found her trunk by the end of the bed, Crookshanks snoozing lazily on the hot pink comforter. Upon further inspection of the room she found a small kitchen nook and a walk in closet. She had no need for all this girliness; she was Hermione, a girl who preferred navy blue over pink and rarely painted her nails. Needing to wash her face, she opened the door to the bathroom only to realize it was occupied.

The shower let off steam, fogging up the room. She squealed and slammed the door. Who would be in her shower?

She shook her head and sat on her bed. She would wait for them to leave before investigating.

Ten minutes later her door opened and Draco walked in, only a towel wrapped around his waist. She dropped her jaw. He had the most gorgeous body she had ever seen. A set of beautiful abs carved into white marble, flawless and smooth.

"Oops." He said, dripping wet, shaking his blond hair and spattering the wall with water. "I chose the wrong door and found you instead of my room. I didn't know our rooms connected."

"Mmmnnmemnnm…" She said, attempting to speak when she was mesmerized by his body.

"Come again?"

"MMI didnnnn't either?"

"This makes things a little scandalous," he said, and laughed. Hermione was amazed by the amount of tensing his stomach did to laugh.

"I guess so," she said very quietly. Had she ever been interested in abs before? She couldn't remember. She didn't think so.

"What are you looking at?" He asked. She didn't answer so he shrugged. "Well, I've had enough of standing in your room half naked with you ogling me. I need to go unpack my things. Until tomorrow, Granger." He turned around and left, closing the door to their bathroom.

Was she really that obvious about ogling him? She didn't think so. Then she checked herself. Yup, she was drooling.

"Oh, Hermione!" She grumbled, frustrated, then collapsed on her bed in a fit of embarrassment.

In Draco's room, he was smiling to himself. His plan was going so well… He already had the girl. She was so trusting once he had told her about the horcrux… That didn't exist. He laughed to himself. Being bad was the only thing he was good at.

He took a look at himself in the wall length mirror. It was no wonder she fell for him; his body was flawless. He didn't even try to look this good; girls drooled over him and he did nothing but enjoy the attention, hook up, and be bad. His father would be so proud.


	7. Chapter 7

He knocked silently on her door.

"Hermione!" He stage whispered. Unfortunately, she was a heavy sleeper. "Hermione!" He whispered again, crossing the room. He shook her shoulder lightly.

Her eyes flew open and she let out a silent scream.

"Shh! It's me." Upon realizing who the intruder was she moved over slightly in her bed, making room for him to sit down. Her pulse was still rapid.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I couldn't sleep." He smiled and sat down next to her, making a big indentation in the mattress.

"Why not?" She asked, her eyes open wide despite her state of slumber.

"I had a dream." H said. "Scootch over." She moved more, leaving enough room for him to lie down.

There had been two days since the beginning of the school year. Classes had started the day before, and Hermione had collapsed in bed with exhaustion after finishing her homework and her duties as head girl.

"Was it really bad?" She asked as he lay his head down on her plushy pink pillow.

He didn't answer. The truth was he had had a bad dream. Voldemort, in a rage, had sent a killing spell at Draco; his mother had received the shock of green light and crumpled at Draco's feet, her grey eyes so similar to his blank and full of shock. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He smiled. He was getting so close to her…

"Can I do anything?"

"No. Just stay there for me." A knock and a yell brought him out of his state of mind and he jumped up.

"Malfoy, where are you? It's urgent!" Snape's voice echoed.

_What could Snape want at this hour?_ He wondered and sighed. Ever since he arrived Snape had been on his back; was he gaining their trust? Was he close to the boy? Did he realize how important this was? "I'll be right back," he whispered and sprinted back into his room.

********************************************

"Malfoy there has been a problem." Snape said, his eyes shining bright.

"What? How's my mother?"

"It's not your mother you should be worrying about. Come with me, Draco." He took his hand sternly and led him down into the dungeons, where his old office used to be. "Take a seat."

"Professor, what's going on?"

Snape sighed and ran a hand through his long, greasy hair. "It's your father."

"My father? What about him?"

Snape stared at the wall. How he hated breaking news, how he hated emotion… "Your father's dead, Draco."

"He's—what?" Draco asked, his eyelids flying open, his body rigid in the hard wooden seat.

"There was… an accident."

His head started swimming. His father, the one who had taught him everything, the most prominent figure in his life… Gone. He couldn't lose his head here, not in front of Snape. His whole life was at stake.

"Draco, did you hear me?" Snape added, his voice not straying from the normal monotony.

He nodded, his blond hair covering his eyes, his head down.

"This has changed things somewhat…" Snape said. "Look at me when I am speaking, Malfoy!" Draco blinked his eyes to make sure no tears would escape. "Do you know that you are now officially the last chance for your family? The last chance for your mother? Do you know that the Dark Lord, so locked in his thoughts, has not strayed from your house? He stays there, watching your mother, watching you! You must not let your father down, Draco." Draco nodded.

"I understand." He took in a deep breath. "How did it happen?"

"A secret mission. He was to check on a hidden object in Godric's Hollow, one he did _not_ find there. When he returned, the Dark Lord wasn't… pleasant."

"You can stop now, Professor. I don't want to know any more." His father's face swam through his thoughts. His long blond hair splayed out behind him, blood dripping from his mouth… He let out an unintentional whimper.

"Go back to bed, Malfoy. I expect you'll need sleep after this… Unfortunate news." Draco nodded and took no time getting out of that room. He needed time to think, time to cry… He needed to cry where no one could find him. So he ran. He ran with silent tears running down his face. His father, his mentor. Dead.

"Draco, what's wrong?" He heard a voice call. He must have imagined it, because nobody was allowed out of their rooms at 2 am. He kept running. "Draco, stop!" He heard a pair of feet run after him. He slowed down. He needed to sit and cry for just two minutes. Why couldn't anyone leave him alone? He looked behind him. Of course she would follow him.

"Go away, Mudblood!" He cried, his voice cracking.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"I said, go _away!" _He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her, grimacing.

"Is it your mother? Draco, I want to help you!" She called, still running towards him. He had pulled out his wand. Why wasn't she stopping?

"Stay away from me!" He yelled. He didn't care who heard him.

"No." She was right in front of him now. She reached to his outstretched arm and lowered it. "What happened?"

"You shouldn't be here." He said, looking at the floor.

"I know," she said. "You shouldn't either." She slowly embraced him, wrapping her arms around his waste and resting her head on his chest.

"Get out of here." He whispered. Hot, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"No." _God, she was annoying. He wanted to smack her upside the head. She was rubbing his back sympathetically and he hated it. He hated her. He hated Snape. He hated… everything._

"I'm not leaving." She said. He couldn't hold it back anymore. His body was wracked with sobs and he started to fall over. She held on to him as he put his head in her hair and cried, really cried. It had been years.

"It's my father," he gasped. "He killed my father!"

"Oh, Draco," she breathed, tears welling in her eyes. He was in so much pain, it tore her heart out. "Draco, you'll be okay…"

He sobbed loudly, his cries echoing through the dungeon. She had followed him and Snape, worried something like this would happen. She pulled him closer still, rubbing her head on his chest and crying too. She had hated Lucius Malfoy with all her heart; he was a menace, someone she had faced last year in the Great Hall. But his loss was so great to Draco, the boy she held in her arms, the one she had kissed two days ago, the one she practically lived with—his death was monumental.

She reached up and wiped his face of tears; he kept his eyes averted, his mouth slightly open, breathing deep. He had stopped sobbing. "It'll be okay, Draco." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

He woke up and forgot where he was. He remembered just faintly the events of last night… Crying deeply, being led down a hallway, up some stairs and into a room…He didn't remember falling asleep. He also didn't remember this much pink.

And then he remembered that his father was dead and something in his chest was squeezed tight. He felt asphyxiated. He gasped.

"Draco, Draco are you okay?" She asked, running to his side. She had appeared out of nowhere and looked like she hadn't slept at all. What was he doing in her room?

And then the image of his father's face, pale, not breathing, his eyes open but not looking anywhere… He would never talk to him again. Suddenly, Draco felt sick to his stomach. He sat up and retched, but he hadn't eaten recently so he didn't throw up. He coughed, the image so sickening he wished he _would_ throw up. The weight of the world was on his shoulders; if he didn't succeed, his family would die. He would die. His father was already dead—who else's life could he ruin?

And Hermione was staring at him with her big concerned eyes. He didn't deserve to be cared for by her; he was just going to have to kill her in the end. She couldn't know the thoughts running through his mind as he stared at her, not wanting that moment to end. He knew there was no way he could kill her; she had done nothing but care about him. She had forgiven him, and he had cried on her shoulder. There was no going back.

"Draco?" She leaned forward and dabbed sweat off his forehead. He couldn't speak.

"I can't… I can't be here right now." He said finally. He then threw off the covers and ran to the bathroom.

"Draco!" Hermione called after him, the washcloth still in her hand. She wasn't able to sleep at all; even if she tried, Draco woke her up crying in his sleep. The poor boy; all his life he'd had his father to guide him, and now he was gone. Could she blame him for being a jerk?

She tried the door to the bathroom; it didn't open. "Please, let me in!" She said. "I'm worried about you." She got no response. "You know locking the door will do nothing. I have a wand, you know." She still got no response, and took out her wand.

"_Alohomora!_" She yelled. The lock clicked and she entered the bathroom, but he wasn't there. She tried his door—it was unlocked.

She knocked and entered, but he was gone; he had taken his schoolbag and left.

*****************************************************

"Have you seen Hermione today?" Ron whispered to Harry in their Charms class. She hadn't been at breakfast, and it wasn't like her to skip a class. Any class, ever.

"No, I haven't. I wonder where she is."

"Mister Potter, if you would be so kind as to demonstrate the Confringo Curse for us?" Professor Flitwick asked.

Harry was taken by surprise. "Um, no problem, Professor." He stood up and Ron gave him a sideways glance. He took a step forward to the fireplace, where a heap of sticks lay waiting. He took a deep breath and pointed his wand at the sticks. "_Confringo!"_ He yelled. Nothing happened.

"I thought not, Mister Potter. 5 points from Gryffindor. Maybe you should pay attention more often, hmm? Alright, that's the end of class. Please practice for homework!" The bell rang and Harry collected his books, ignoring looks from the other students.

"I'm really worried about her," Ron said. "What if something happened?"

"I'm sure we would know by now. Don't worry." They passed a painting of Sir Cadogan on his horse.

"Come on, scoundrels! Fight! Don't make me come after you!" He waved his iron fist at them.

"Look, there's Malfoy!" Ron said, pointing to the tall blond. "I swear, if he hurt her…" He strode up to Malfoy and pushed him. "Where's Hermione?"

"Looking for your girlfriend, Weasley?" Malfoy asked, smirking. "I haven't seen her since last night…" He said.

"What did you do to her?"

"So quick to accuse, Weasley. I didn't _hurt_ her if that's what you were asking." He smiled suggestively. "Just… tired her out a little." He then high fived Goyle, who was laughing his head off.

"That's not funny, Malfoy." Harry said.

"I don't know where your whore is," Malfoy said. "And if you think she's on my list of priorities, you're wrong." He then tried to turn around and leave.

"Don't… call… her… a whore!" Ron growled, then grabbed the back of Malfoy's robes. He pulled the pale face closer to him and punched him square in the nose.

His nose exploded. A mess of blood and cartilage, Malfoy sputtered and cursed. He pulled out his wand. "_Crucio!_" he cried, and a jet of light hit Ron square in the chest.

Ron screamed, his body on fire. He fell on the ground, writhing, his mouth foaming. His eyes rolled back in his head.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco screamed at Harry. He jumped out of the way in time to see Ron stop moving. Draco had spun around and stormed away from the scene, his nose leaving a sickening trail of blood behind him. "Ron, are you okay?"

Ron opened his eyes, rolled over, and vomited.

*************************************

She heard him come in. She had been lying on his bed, which was a sickly shade of blue, and had dozed off when he opened his drawers. "Draco, why is there blood on your robes?"

He ignored her and took out a new set of robes. He could clean off the blood with magic but he was hopeless at that; it had taken Madam Pomfrey 30 seconds to fix his nose and chastise him, but it had taken him much longer to shake off a feeling of hatred.

"Draco, are you okay?" She asked, getting off his bed and moving towards him.

"Get away from me," he growled.

"Please, just let me in," she said as he turned around and stripped his robe off. He was wearing a pair of striped boxers—yesterday Hermione would have noticed this. Today she couldn't have cared less. She picked up his bloody robes and siphoned the blood of with her wand. He shrugged on the new robes without saying anything.

"Why are you in my room?" He asked, straightening and adjusting his robe. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He spun around to look at Hermione with a scornful look.

"I—I was worried about you. I waited for you to get back and I must have fallen asleep…" His dirty look frightened her. "Draco… Why were you bleeding?"

He moved around her without a word.

"Draco," she whispered. "Please." She was afraid he had done something terrible—his father was dead, he left without a word and came back with blood on his robes.

"Your boyfriend punched me," Draco said.

"Who are you talking about?" She asked, and he turned around to face her.

"Weasley." He grunted, then left the room.

When he was gone, she cried.

*************************************************

She slumped out of her room and down the stairs to the fourth floor, where the portrait of the Fat Lady greeted her animatedly. "Password, please!"

"Bowtruckle bogies…" she mumbled, and the wall swung open. She walked down the short corridor and up the stairs into the common room, where there was a small game of Wizard Chess in the corner and Ginny reading serenely in a chair.

She approached Ginny and attempted a smile.

"Hermione, where have you been all day? Ron's been worried sick about you!"

"Ron couldn't give a damn about me," she spat.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.

"If he really cared about me he'd leave me alone!" Ron had been standing in the stairwell from the boy's dormitory.

"Is that what you really think?" Ron asked, shaking. His voice jerked Hermione's head around, and she scowled. "That I should leave you alone when Malfoy calls you my whore?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "He—he called me a what?"

"But you know what? It doesn't matter. I know Malfoy's got you twisted around his finger, what with you having joined rooms and everything. You make me sick." He sputtered, then turned heel and ran back to his dorm.

"You should apologize to him," Ginny said. "Malfoy used the Cruciatus curse on him." Hermione's stomach dropped.

She would have opened her mouth to say something but she felt like if she opened her mouth she would throw up. Malfoy… The boy she let cry on her last night, the one she promised to look after—he had used an unforgivable curse on Ron, one of her best friends—and he had called her, Hermione, a… a whore? Was that what she was to him? Some kind of… slut he could call on when he needed some comfort?


	9. Chapter 9

That night she didn't sleep. She could hear him screaming in the next room and while her body sprang to respond, her mind kept her lying in bed, ignoring the sounds in the other room.

"I can't do it!" She heard him scream, and then something broke in his room. What if someone was actually hurting him? She heard a thump and a sob, then silence. She was frightened.

She heard the bathroom door open, shut; she heard more crying, and then her door opened. Under her eyelids she could see the light from the bathroom spilling in. She pretended to sleep while secretly watching him; he was in the doorway, his facial expression unreadable without opening her eyes all the way. She heard him take deep, ragged breaths, but his sobs had stopped. He closed the bathroom door and darkness surrounded her. _Why is he here?_ She asked herself. _What is he going to do?_

"Hermione?" She heard, his voice quiet, high-pitched. She kept feigning sleep. He approached her bed. Suddenly she felt his face close to hers, but kept her eyes closed. She could feel him breathing on her. She wanted to reach up and slap him, but her mind told her body to stay rigid and paralyzed. "Hermione, I'm bleeding…There's so much blood. Please," she heard. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

She opened her eyes and looked him over. He had a deep gash in his hand that was bleeding all down his arm; it appeared as a river of dark black running down a pale alabaster arm in the darkness. He was holding his hand over the gash awkwardly, leaning over her, his eyes heavy with sleep and his cheeks wet.

"Draco, what did you do?" She asked, and he gave a sigh of relief.

"I knew you'd help me," he said. "I insulted you and you'll help me. You forgave me," he said.

"I don't forgive you." She said. "But why are you bleeding?"

"I broke something," he said. He couldn't face her and tell her he broke the mirror in a fit of rage. He had woken up, seen his reflection, and punched it.

"Is that why you were screaming?" She asked.

He didn't remember screaming. "Yes," he said. His blood was dripping onto her comforter. "Please, help me." She leaned over and turned on the light—his arm was a river of scarlet, a tear in his hand that looked deep and painful. She realized faintly that he was shaking.

"I don't think I can do this," she said, watching the blood pump up with his pulse. "I've never actually--"

"Please," he said. He was so pale…

She picked up her wand and pointed it hesitantly at his skin. "_Episkey!"_ she said, and the skin sloppily grew back.

"_OW!"_ he screamed.

"What? What did I do?" She asked, alarmed.

"My hand's on fire!" He screamed. She wondered how nobody else heard him; then she remembered they were all alone on the fifth floor.

"What? What did I do?" She then saw the odd lump in his hand. "Oh, hell," she whispered. There must be glass in there. "Draco, I don't know how to fix this! You need Madam Pomfrey!" She said. He had leaned his head on the bed and was groaning.

"No!" He spat. "I need you to do it!"

"I can't, Draco!" She said, her eyes welling up.

"Do it!" He screamed. She shook her head.

"I can't, I don't know how!"

"Please," he cried. "Please!"

"_Defodio_," she whispered. He moaned loudly as his hand opened up again, bleeding freshly. She could see the shiny sliver of glass stuck in his hand, poking into something important looking. "Accio tweezers?" She whispered. A pair of tweezers flew from under the bathroom door into her outstretched hands. She wished there were an easier way to do this. "Please, don't look, Draco!" She said, and he closed his eyes. She reached with the tweezers into the gash and he cried out, making her hands shake. "P-please Draco…" She gasped. "Stay still…" She tried through tears to see what she was doing, and tentatively reached the shard. She pulled it slowly out, her hands shaking, then dropped it and the tweezers on the bed. She picked up her wand again. "_Episkey!_" She cried. His hand sealed up, this time nicely. He took a deep breath in and was panting, then took his arm back and fell on the floor.

"Thank you," he said through his breaths. "Thank you so much." She was still crying. His arm was a mess of blood, some dry and some still sickly sticky. He stood up dizzily and reached for the shard of glass. He angrily took it to the bathroom, threw it away, and scrubbed his arm menacingly. He watched the red water run down the sink and returned to Hermione's room. "I can't thank you enough." She was still holding her wand, tears rolling down her face. She was completely silent. "You saved my life," he said, then he walked over to her and took her face. She turned her head. "I never, meant to call you a whore." He said; he meant it.

"You used an unforgivable curse on my friend." She said. "It's _unforgiveable_."

"He broke my nose!" Draco said, then sat down next to her. "I'm sorry—It's just, my dad, he's _dead_." He said, the news still raw in his mind. "I wasn't myself—I'm sorry." She looked him in the eyes.

"I don't believe that you changed at all." She said.

"I wish you would," he said, and he really meant it. He wanted her to believe he'd changed.

She looked like she was going to cry again. "Don't cry," he said, and wiped a tear out of her face. She broke eye contact. "Please, don't cry." A tear rolled down her face and landed on her lips. He leaned forward slowly, and carefully.

He kissed her lips, tasting the saltiness of her tears. He turned his whole body and caressed her face while he kissed her again, her lips like sweet, salty satin.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered.

"It feels right."

She shook her head but didn't stop him. He picked up his other hand and put it on her hip, and kissed her deeper. She let out a little, "oh!" and he rolled over her, lying horizontally next to her. He reached his hands up her nightshirt, feeling her warm skin and her heart beating through her back. She rolled on top of him, feeling his heart beat with hers, and tried to roll his shirt off of him. He took his hands back and did it for her, tossing it on the floor. He stuck his hands back up her shirt, relishing the fact that there was no bra for him to unhook.

She rubbed against his chest, her legs wrapping around his waist. This was so wrong and she knew it; she was literally fraternizing with the enemy—and loving it.

And somewhere, deep in Draco's mind, something clicked into place; he couldn't kill her; he was having too much fun playing with her. And something else told him what he was doing was completely wrong; he couldn't stop seeing little pieces of his mother in her.

He felt dirty and sick, like he was hooking up with Narcissa. Or, at least, someone who was Narcissa some of the time. When he had a nightmare he ran to Hermione because she was wholesome; one of the only people who cared about him. When she healed him she did it tenderly, like his mother would do—but she didn't kiss like his mother, that was for sure. He took relief in the fact that the Hermione he was kissing now was anyone _but_ his mother; someone daring and sexy, and such a good kisser.

When he touched her he felt not only a boy's love for his mother, but another kind of love; a man's love for a lover. She had such a beautiful body it killed him, such a loving touch, such a natural way of doing things. It felt right that night, touching her, kissing her, exploring her.

A piece of his heart that had been stolen last night because of his father was replaced; he now had a new love. Loving Hermione.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This is my first _real_ fanfic (still figuring things out…)  It makes me really happy to read your reviews! Thank you guys so much!

That morning he woke up in a better mood than he had been in… ever. She was still asleep, her eyelashes fluttering lightly in her sleep. He smiled; her mouth was slightly open, a small trail of drool leaking onto her pillow. He kissed her cheek and got up; stretched, felt his hand to make sure it was okay. It was about 5:30 in the morning—he was early. He ran to the bathroom, washed his face, pulled on some fresh robes, then left. He ran down the stairs quickly, down the six flights of stairs to the dungeon. His footsteps echoed in the stone hallway; he was completely alone. He walked up to Snape's large wooden doors when they opened.

"Malfoy… Please, come in…"

He sat down in the barrel-like chair. His headmaster sat across from him at his desk, his arms folded. The room was lit by a single gas lantern in the corner; from this angle he could see every blemish and wrinkle on Snape's face.

"You have been here a week, Malfoy. Have you been following the plan?"

"Yes, sir." Draco said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

"Now tell me; do you have the girl's trust?"

Draco reflected over the last night… From what he could tell, she trusted him… a _lot…_ "Yes," he said with a smirk.

"And you're not getting attached." Draco had to think. Last night he had thought he couldn't kill her; it turns out this morning was no different.

"Not at all. She's a filthy mudblood!" He had to swallow a taste of hatred for that word; if he wanted to be with her for _any_ reason, he couldn't let on to Snape that he had any sort of feeling for her.

"Are you sure?" Snape asked with a small frown. "Greater wizards than you have lost everything due to…" He trailed off. In reality Snape was thinking of Lily Evans and how he had given everything up for her. "…_Distractions._" He finished.

"Absolutely." Malfoy said, swallowing quickly. Why was Snape asking so many questions?

"Very well then," Snape took out a piece of rolled up parchment. "I must tell you to keep this an absolute secret," Snape said.

"What is it?" Draco asked, leaning forward.

"Your father's will," Snape said, unrolling the parchment. "Fortunately it came straight to me, not the Dark Lord… He still does not know of this piece of paper." Snape curled up the sides of his mouth in what looked like a grimace. Draco knew it was supposed to be a smile. "I would like to keep it out of the Dark Lord's knowledge."

"Of course," Draco said.

"If you have understood this, then I have a few things to give you…."

******************************************

"Ron, we have to go to class," Harry said, nudging his roommate in the back.

"You go without me," Ron said, curled up in his scarlet bedclothes.

"Why are you acting this way? Is it because of Malfoy?"

"No," Ron said.

"Look; I don't know what's going on between him and Hermione, but you moping around in here isn't going to change anything."

"I'm not moping," Ron mumbled.

"Listen, Ron." Harry said with a sigh. "My parents are dead. My godfather, Sirius, is dead. My mentor, Dumbledore, is dead too. Yet I can get out of bed in the morning. You know why? Because I know that today someone might need my help. Today I might make a difference; I might find a clue to where the next horcrux is, or I might just get to spend another moment with Ginny. Either way, I know that every breath I take is a breath against _him. _Every step I take is a reminder that I am alive. Every laugh is a joke that he can't take away from me." Harry grabbed his book bag and turned toward the door. "So if you're going to let this get in your way of living, well…" he shrugged even though Ron couldn't see him. "You might as well give up."

He then left the room. This might seem like a speech that Ron might take to heart. You might be expecting him to get up, run after Harry and yell, "You're right! I'm sorry your life sucks!" But Ron's head is much too thick for that. Instead of getting up and shaking his head clear of things, he pulled his covers over his head and fell asleep.

*****************************************

He left the dungeon with the items in his pocket. He could see light peeking in through the wide windows, making his shadow stretch along the walls. He climbed the flights of stairs slowly, his head full of clouds. He couldn't tell if he were happy or… what he was. He reached his room and blew a kiss to the woman in the tight red dress, who giggled and allowed him access to his room. He emptied his pockets; a small brass key to a vault in Gringott's, a silver ring, a bigger key (to what, he did not know), and everything found on his father's body. He opened a drawer and tossed everything in there; for some reason he felt like he couldn't deal with them being out in the open.

He checked the time. It was about 7 in the morning. He could hear Hermione in the bathroom, the sink running. He waited until she was done before entering her room. She was brushing her hair when she noticed him.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, dropped her brush, and jumped in his arms. He was taken by surprised, but laughed anyways and stroked her hair. "Where were you?"

"I had to…" He couldn't think of any way to finish the sentence, so he changed the subject. "Let's look for it today."

"Look for what?" She asked.

"The _horcrux_," he whispered. Crookshanks, who had been hiding under the bed for most of the time Hermione had stayed in the room, rocketed out from under the bed and meowed loudly, as if trying to cover up his words.

"But I missed classes yesterday, I really can't today--"

"You missed class yesterday?" Draco asked.

"I was worried about you," she said shyly.

"You missed class for me?" He asked, touched.

"Not only that… I was really tired…" She said. He smiled.

"You don't have to feel bad about that," he said and took her hands. He realized then he didn't know what to do with her hands, and dropped them awkwardly. "Thank you."

She smiled shyly, then put her hands on his chest. Ever since they had become closer, she had felt like there was a fire burning in the pit of her stomach, flaring up when she least expected it. At these times she felt daring; dangerous. When she touched his chest the fire burned bright, filling her with thoughts of him. "Let's find the horcrux." She said. "What's one day of classes?" Wow, she really _was_ becoming reckless. She couldn't recognize herself anymore.

He smiled and laughed at the irony. Here he was with Hermione Granger, teacher's pet, best friend of Harry Potter, his sworn enemy, and she just told him she'd rather spend time with him than go to class. What a strange reality.

Later that morning, after everyone had left for breakfast, he and Hermione snuck out of the castle. They ran down the steps leading to Hagrid's castle when Draco stopped.

"Hang on, Hermione. There's something I've always wanted to do." He looked around and figured, hey, his life had changed so much in one week. What's another change if no one's around to see it?

He took a step off the path onto the big grassy hill and smiled. Hermione was looking at him strangely. He laughed, shook his head, and lay down. Tentatively he rocked back and forth before pushing off and tumbling down the hill. He rolled around and around, the turf cushioning him as he descended. He landed with a laugh, then peered up at Hermione, who was staring at him like he had lost his head. Maybe he had. "Come on, it's more fun than it looks!" He yelled. She sat down hesitantly, then shut her eyes. This was so stupid.

"What are you waiting for?" She heard him yell. She had watched the look of joy on his face when he sat up, waiting for her to join him. This was such a different person than she knew. Before yesterday she had never skipped a class on purpose, and here she was today, rolling down hills. She shook her head and let out a laugh that said "I've come this far, why not?" She lay down and pushed off, a feeling of ecstasy filling her head as she let out an involuntary laugh. Her heart was pumping blood so fast into her brain she felt high, and the tumble down the big hill seemed to take forever. His laughter was filling her head, his smile, the look in his eyes…

And suddenly she was next to him, both of them lying there, laughing, out of breath. "See? It was fun," he said, and leaned over her. They both stopped laughing for a moment, the world standing still. She saw how clear his grey eyes were, how sparkling and full of emotion they were. She reached up suddenly, her fire burning. She pulled him on top of her, kissing him hungrily. He responded by kissing her back, pushing her to the ground and cradling her body like it was a life raft.

She entwined her fingers in his beautiful blond hair, pulling him as close as he possibly could be, when a slam jerked them out of their state of entanglement. Draco sprung up as Hagrid emerged out of his cabin, his bloodhound Fang following close behind.

Feeling her heart beat with a different kind of rhythm, Hermione scrambled up. They were lucky he hadn't seen them; being caught like that was the last thing she needed. "What should we do?" She asked, still breathing hard.

"On the count of three, run that way," he whispered, taking her hand. "One… Two… Three!" They both sprinted parallel to the cabin, seeing Hagrid lean over some kind of cage. She saw Fang raise his head to stare at them, and stared into the dog's eyes pleading that he wouldn't make a noise. He didn't, and Draco pulled her into the forest.

They didn't stop running for a quarter of a mile, after which Draco let out a clap of laughter and hugged her tight. "We did it!" He said.

He obviously hadn't run from anybody before, Hermione observed. She had run further and faster from far worthier opponents than Hagrid, the big hearted half giant, and hadn't felt the amount of success that Draco did. She smiled anyways, in a way glad he hadn't had to run. And then she remembered that Voldemort was at his house; where could he possibly run to?

"What did he do to you?" She asked suddenly.

Draco stopped hugging her, confused. "That big oaf back there?"

"No." She sighed. "What did… Voldemort… do to you?" Draco took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"I…" He said, shaking his head. Why did she have to ruin a perfectly good moment?

She instantly regretted her question. "It's okay. I don't have to know," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I'm sorry." He nodded but didn't smile.

"Come on," he said, and pulled her deeper into the forest.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"You'll see," he said. He actually had no idea where they were going, or why he had made up this stupid lie in the first place.

"Okay." She said. "I trust you."

That didn't exactly make him feel any better.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Once again it's 0:34 AM and I can't sleep… Hahahaha. Oh well. I guess I'll have to write more ;)

Disclaimer: Do I really have to put one of these here? It's not like anyone thinks I'm trying to steal the characters from JK Rowling… Though I wish they were my idea!!

"Draco, where are we going?" She asked at a whisper. He had been so quiet leading her through the woods, politely holding back branches for her but otherwise being absolutely silent.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, not looking her in the eyes.

"Yes, but…" She said. This part of the forest was looking more and more familiar….

He was planning on taking her as far in as he could, pretend the horcrux had been taken, then taking her back to the castle.

"Draco, are you sure--" She started again, seeing the trees bent down and snapped, the unusual lack of animals…

"Yes!" He shouted. His voice echoed through the forest and she tried to take her hand back. He held tight. "Please. Just, trust me."

He watched her jaw drop open and her eyes widen, a scream building up in her throat.

"Grawp--" she breathed. He turned his head slowly, although that was pointless. A large stomp proved his theory.

"HERMY!" He heard a deep voice bellow. The giant had teeth the size of broken refrigerators, his eyes like giant saucers in his boulder-sized head.

For once words escaped him. He opened his mouth with something to say, let out a small whimper, then pulled Hermione close—not really to protect her, but more to have something to hold on to.

"HERMY!" The giant growled again, reaching out sausage fingers. Hermione buried her face in Draco's chest, feeling him hold her extra tight.

"What….is….this?" Draco asked through gritted teeth extra quiet. He backed up slowly as the giant examined him, pointing with his huge finger.

"Hagrid's younger brother…" Hermione responded in not much more than a whisper.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I can see the resemblance."

"Shh," warned Hermione. "I have an idea." Draco watched as she slowly pulled out her wand and pointed it next to the giant. "If he's anything like his brother…" She whispered something under her breath, and a silver otter shot out of the tip of her wand. The giant stood up straight and stared at the otter, then smiled and laughed dopily. "Go!" Hermione urged the Patronus. The otter turned its silvery head to the two, nodded, then trotted off back to where the giant came from.

"DOGGY!" Grawp giggled, then chased after the Patronus in a whimsical state.

"How… did you know… to do that?" Draco asked, still keeping his voice down.

"Hagrid fell in love with a baby dragon…" Hermione said. Draco nodded and took this as enough of a reason.

"Is he gone?"

"I think so," Hermione said, and Draco loosened his grip a little.

"That was close." Draco said, and stroked her cheek. "You're brilliant."

"Let's keep going," Hermione insisted. He nodded and took her hand again, then led her once again headfirst into the forest.

By mid-afternoon they were still walking and a slight drizzle was falling.

"We're almost there?" Hermione asked.

"Ten more minutes," Draco promised. "We're close." She nodded. They were lucky the only creature they had reached was Grawp and not the centaurs or giant spiders that Ron and Harry were always running into.

The forest thinned out and a clearing was visible. A ring of light was shown radiating around it despite the rain. "There," Draco whispered.

Draco couldn't believe his luck; right there, in the middle of the forest, was a mausoleum. The stone was wet in the daylight, slick and shining with a marble headstone.

_**Helena Ravenclaw**_, the headstone read.

"The grey lady," Hermione gasped. Draco smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically. Of course this was where he intended to end up… "He was always so invested in Hogwarts," she said. "He had to leave pieces of his body in the places he was invested."

They approached the mausoleum hand in hand, silently. The sound of their footsteps in the grass, soggy and slippery, was the only thing that announced their arrival.

"Stay here," Draco said and walked up the steps. He knew it was stupid but knocked on the door anyway, the thick stone cushioning the sounds of his knocks.

"Okay?" Hermione asked, then jogged up to join him.

"I guess," he said, then turned the brass knob. The door was heavy and damp and opened slowly and difficultly. The door opened to a damp smell of mold and must; it seemed as if nobody had been there in years.

"_Lumos,_" Hermione said, and the tip of her wand lit up. There were vines along the walls, growing in through cracks in the stone. A flight of crumbling stairs led into a basement. "Should we go?" She asked. He nodded hesitantly.

He went before her, stepping down the stairs slowly. He felt one step give and crumble, then slid down to the next one. "Careful," he warned.

The basement was cold and moist. The stone floor was wet and slippery and covered with moss. From what Hermione could tell, the hallway went on for about three yards. "Come on," Draco said and pulled out his wand. He held out his wand arm in front of him and led the way. At the end of the three yards the hallway opened up into a large chamber; at the far end was a granite coffin, lying on a polished maple table. The room was oddly warm and clean, no cobwebs anywhere and the moss had disappeared from the floor.

"Where is it?"She asked, looking around. There were torch holsters along the walls but not much else besides the coffin.

"In… there." Draco said and gested to the coffin.

She nodded but didn't move. "Come with me," she asked so quiet he almost couldn't hear her.

They crossed the lonesome room and approached the coffin, a large black slab of stone. Draco put his hands on the top and felt that it was incredibly warm and felt to have a pulse; he shuddered. Something about this was incredibly creepy.

He hesitated, and Hermione picked up the heat. She flung open the top of the coffin… to reveal a pale white skeleton dressed in rags of a pale pearly blue.

"Dear God," Hermione exhaled, the empty eye sockets peering up at her.

_Hmmmmmm…._ A small breeze blew through her hair and the skull hummed melancholic tune. _Hmmm…_

The Grey Lady sat up, her ghost body appearing over the bones. _Hmmm…_

She turned her head and giggled, then her mouth opened wide and a fountain of black bile erupted.

"Eugh!" Draco exclaimed, pulling Hermione back.

"_Go away," _The Grey Lady whispered. Hermione shook her head.

"No."

"Go _AWAY_!" The Grey Lady screeched and stood up. She lifted her hand, still screaming, and threw an energy ball at her. She screamed and dodged it; from where the energy ball landed a body rose, dark like burned toast, smooth like silk. It opened its mouth and groaned.

"Run!" Draco screamed and then took off running. An energy ball flashed behind them as they ran up the stairs. A stair crumbled beneath Hermione's foot as she climbed…

"Help!" She screamed.

Suddenly, from outside of the mausoleum, a horn was heard. The Grey Lady turned her head, listening; Hermione took that extra second to scramble up and join Draco at the top of the stairs. He grabbed her hand again and the Grey Lady's scream was heard, echoing menacingly, full of hate and pain.

They ran quickly out of the mausoleum and were greeted by a Ford Angelica, honking its horn animatedly and flashing its blinkers.

"Get in!" Draco nearly screamed. He flung open the door and shoved her in, then got in the driver's seat. He had heard of these metal contraptions but had never even been near enough one to say how bad it smelled.

The car engine revved and swerved, driving through the clearing and speeding through the forest. It was nearly nightfall; the sun was falling, leaving Draco to hold on to Hermione as tight as he could and scream his head off. Trees whacked the exterior of the car as it swerved between trees, around bushes and rocks and through bushes.

She could see Hagrid's hut in the distance, a billow of smoke coming through the chimney. The car stopped suddenly, and threw them out through the doors. As soon as it came it disappeared, leaving them lying on the ground and sore.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, tears streaming down his face from screaming so hard.

"I think so," Hermione muttered. She sat up and he helped her up.

"Are you sure?" He asked. Her face was bleeding slightly and her ankle was cut pretty badly.

"Yeah," she said.

He analyzed her ankle; "You need to see Madam Pomfrey," He decided. "Come on." She started to walk but he swept her off her feet and cradled her in his arms. "Let's go."

He walked slowly and carefully up the hill, checking every few seconds to make sure his precious cargo was okay.

When he reached the top of the hill he almost fainted and ran back down. So that was why Snape was checking up on him. Why hadn't he _told_ him it was tonight?

"Listen, Hermione…" He said. "I need you to run. Run back into the forest," he ordered.

"Why, is something wrong?" She asked.

"Please, just listen to me." He growled and let her down. She tried to sneak a peak but he barked, "_now!"_

And with a heavy heart and empty head he approached the castle, the Dark Mark glowing dangerously in the twilight sky.


End file.
